Darkling
by She Who Loves Books
Summary: Harry has a power, a dark and compelling power.
1. Chapter 1

Darkling

Chapter One:

Harry potter, The Boy Who Lived, the hero of the wizarding world. Or was he? The issue of the matter was that no one could tell. Many strange things happened around the boy, things that were unusual, even for a wizard child. Many simply chalked it up to the accidental magic that many wizarding children produced. Dumbledore, however, wasn't so sure. The child was pure and loving, that Albus could easily read from the boy, however malnourished and unloved he was back. He was distrustful and closed up, but that was to be expected with the way his muggle life had treated him.

Still, Albus sensed something strangely… foreboding about the boy. Something cloaked in shadows around the edges of his mind, seething with feelings of anger and disgust. And… something else. Something sad. Rather like a dementor, for when Albus attempted to make mental contact, he begin to feel depressed, remembering all the bad things in his life, poor decisions he had made, all while simultaneously being pushed away. The first time he had just attempted to touch it, he had not expected such feelings. He had allowed himself to be pushed out and had sat behind his desk for hours crying at the horrible things he had remembered. He had only ever tried once more. Determined to push past it he had held on for as long as he could and when he was finally forced out, he had attempted to kill himself. Only because Hagrid had been there and stopped him was he still alive now. It had been hours before Hagrid let him go, and days before he left Albus's side. Dumbledore felt a huge surge of gratitude and respect for Hargid when he remembered this. Still, it didn't solve the dilemma of the boy. For, despite all of these things hidden under the surface, Harry Potter was actually quite compelling. He gave off a dangerous attraction that left others craving his presence and approval if he wanted them to. The Department of Accidental Magic and Spell Removal had not known what to make of the poor muggle pining away after Harry, in the end they erased her memory and moved her away to the Americas in hopes of removing the attraction. They forgot all about the incident after that. Albus had checked up on the girl, though, and eight months later she had jumped off of… she had committed suicide claiming that something important was missing from her life and she couldn't live without it. Albus knew that that something could only have been Harry, this was information he had never shared with anyone, and certainly wasn't going to. Indeed Albus's greatest fear was that Harry would learn of this power and it would go to his head. Albus knew that Harry was an immensely powerful wizard and, unless watched carefully, could quite easily go very, _very_ dark.

_It is a beautiful day,_ thought Harry as he wondered along the sidewalks of Little Whinging. He was trying to draw the walk home out as long as possible for he was already late and didn't want to face Vernon's wrath any sooner than he had to. It was nearing dusk, and a quiet, pleasant sunset was underway. The sky had grown a dusky rose red to the west, while one could easily see the stars to the east. And as Harry looked straight up into the heavens where the two colors met, he saw a shooting star. _I wish Uncle Vernon wouldn't beat me when I get home_, he thought hard. In response the shooting star twinkled at him before flying out of sight. Harry was a mere fifteen minute walk from home now. He could tell because the lawns he passed were growing increasingly well kept and the cars were each exceedingly fancier than the previous. At last, he was standing in front of the tended green yard and gleaming black car that marked the house of the Dursely family. He sighed and dragged his feet across the evenly trimmed grass until at last he was standing before the door. He reached up and grabbed the door handle. It wouldn't turn. He shook it bag and forth but it still would not budge. It was probably meant to be an embarrassment, making Harry ring the bell to his own home, but Harry really couldn't care less. He watched and waited for Uncle Vernon's pudgy and ever red face to appear in the window. When at last it did it was grinning quite maliciously. "What do you want, boy?" he barked through the window.

"Please let me in," Harry said lifelessly. Even if he did care, he knew better than to show any emotion to his uncle who would twist it to get him in trouble.

Still, he didn't expect his uncle to refuse, though perhaps he should have. "No, it's time you learn to respect the curfew your aunt and I set down for you, you are twenty-seven minutes late and so for the next twenty-seven hours you will not be allowed back inside this house. And hmm," he added, "I guess that will make you late for tomorrow's curfew too." He looked quite evil at this point. So not only was he making Harry sleep outside, but he wasn't going to feed him for a _whole day_, maybe even longer! This really upset him, and that was saying something considering all the abuse the Dursley family had paid him.

"No." Harry said quietly, looking down at his shoes.

"What did you say to me, boy!"

"I said _no._" said Harry, looking up. "You will let me in."

And too Vernon's utter shock, he did. He felt his feelings changing immensely. Something was happening, something was seriously _wrong._ He opened the door as what little mind he had was covered in coils of dark, shimmering energy, someone else feelings. And quite suddenly, Harry found uncle Vernon to be very different. Just as he was reveling in the feeling, a shrill, irritating voice rang out from somewhere in the kitchen. "Vernon, dear? Have you sent him away? We were waiting for you before we began pudding. Vernon?" her voice grew louder as she must have been getting closer. Vernon was still standing stock still, although Harry was quite done with him. He looked as though he were waiting for something. Harry, however, was standing still for an entirely different reason. He could feel tendrils of his mind pulsing and squeezing at his uncles, as though he could feel the invisible strings he had attached to the other mans mind. He was exactly like a puppet, the strings were now held by Harry. Had any other wizard known what was happening, they would have thought it was some sort of advanced form of the Imperius Curse. They would probably have tried to stop him, tried to explain that what he was doing was wrong. But there were no other wizards, and although Harry might have known this was wrong, he didn't much care. With a little effort he sent his mind at his aunt and found that it was exactly like her physical self. Bony, obnoxious and _small_. He wrapped his mind around it easily and pulled her into view. He could also feel the fat disgusting presence of his cousin's mind but, with a twisted sense of humor, decided to leave him alone. Harry wanted to laugh when his aunt and uncle ignored him in favor of Harry, and protected him from Dudley. He also wanted to watch them starve him. He could hear his cousin pigging out in the kitchen, unaware and uncaring of what had just happened. He didn't even notice the length of his parent's absence. _Well now, _thought Harry, _I think I'll go for the grand affect._ He had his uncle out an arm around his shoulder, as much as it repulsed him, and his aunt simpering protectively over his opposite shoulder. He began his march towards the kitchen.

He walked in steadily, his eyes on his cousin. His cousin had his eyes glued to the television set. Harry put a smug smile on his face and kept going. He knew that Dudley would sense his father's incredible mass heading near him, and he did. At first he turned around with a gluttonous smile on his face. That smile disappeared as his mouth opened into a gaping O, with a loud squelching sound. Partially eaten food rolled from his tongue to his lap, though he appeared to have not noticed. It was really quite comical to watch actually. He sat down at the table, and immediately Vernon and Petunia sat down beside him. With an incomprehensible murmur, she moved Dudley's plate in front of him. Harry much would have preferred a fresh plate but he knew this would get to his cousin the most. Harry had to keep from laughing as he spooned the food into his mouth. He kept eye contact with Dudley the entire time.

When magic law enforcement from the ministry arrived to check out the magic around the house, they could find nothing unusual. Harry did it with such little effort that the Ministry had barely been able to detect the two small "blips on the radar." Mostly because it had been mental magic. Indeed, it was quite scary because nobody would have known that anything had happened at all. In fact. They didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you verox289 nfor not being so judgemental and hole pokey like some people i could mention -cough, cough- Teuful1987 and "Alex" -cough, cough-**

Chapter Two:

When Harry received his letter from Hogwarts he was still quite surprised. Most other people would have found this extraordinary considering what he could do, but he still had very little contact with other people and thus had no idea that what he could do was all that unusual. He had still exhibited some other interesting phenomenon, though. Like the time he had petunia and Vernon take him to the zoo, while Dudley stayed with the batty old lady down the street. Mrs. Figg, he thought her name was. Anyway, while he had been at the zoo, he had met this boa constrictor snake. It was sleeping peacefully behind the glass, but when Harry said hello to it, it had opened its great yellow eyes and looked at him. Encouraged, he had said hello again. With that the snake picked up its head and said, "Hello," back. As intrigued as Harry was, he never asked if people talked to it often, though he spent the rest of the afternoon talking to it. Harry had left, much satisfied, with the promise to return once a month and visit. And he did for the Boa was a great friend of his. On his third visit, the Boa asked for a favor. He asked to be feed, and young Harry had so much wanted to help his friend that, mindless of the panic it caused, he let the boa escape, by vanishing the glass; it had been quite easy for him, too. He had just wanted to help his friend.

In his letter, he was offered an escort to Diagon Alley, since his foster family were muggles, a term Harry later learned meant non-magical folk. He sent a reply, _with an owl!_, that, yes he would like an escort. On August thirtieth, at precisely noon, there was a thundering knock on the Dursely's polished front door. The knocking continued and Harry thought the door might break in. He ran up to it and tried to see through the peep hole, who it was. All he could see was what looked like a hairy brown animal carcass. When he opened the door, though, it was revealed to be a man. An enormous, gargantuan man. He had thick, coarse black hair, covering a majority of what Harry assumed to be his face like a wiry black mask. He could see his eyes though, if he stood up on his tip-toes; they were twinkling black spheres, and looked to be of good humor. He was wearing a stained brown fur coat of something Harry could not identify. _He has a lot of pockets, though_, Harry noticed, _I wonder what's in them. _In the past Petunia would have had a heart attack at the look of the man standing in her living room, and Vernon would have sputtered and turned purple whilst demanding he left and making idle threats. Now, however, they could sense Harry's happiness and excitement and were happy to leave it be if it made Harry happy.

Dudley, on the other hand, was of a much different mind than his parents. He was cowering and whimpering on the floor, trying to hug his knees to his chest, but all his rolls of fat got in the way. He instead lay there, on the floor, with his hands straining to hold onto the cloth of his triple XL jeans. He was failing with little grace. His whimpers were annoying Harry a great deal, but there was nothing that could take away this moment for him. It seemed that it was certainly bothering the giant man, though. He was looking at Dudley with disgust, something Harry could easily understand. "Shaddap!" he said, with a thick, muffled accent. _Maybe because of his beard, _Harry thought with a silent giggle. Out loud he said, "H-hello." He hadn't wanted to sound scared, because he could tell that this was a kind man, but he couldn't help a little stutter, perhaps because of his enormous size. "Hello Harry," he grumbled roughly, "didn't see ya there." His voice was rough and throaty, Harry could tell, even for such a large man, his eyes were twinkling just a little too much. If he didn't think it was impossible, he would have thought this huge man was going to cry. He tried to introduce a new topic, "I'm Harry Potter—" He was going to say, _and I expect you're here to take me to get my school supplies._ But the large man _had_ started to cry. Harry himself was beginning to feel a bit distressed as well. He tried to apologize, "I'm sorry, I—" The man blubbered harder, and pulled an enormous hankie out of one of his many pockets. "S' ok," he said, "not 'chur fault." He wiped his nose and face and an amazing quantity of green mucus appeared in the middle of the grey cloth. He folded it up and tucked it away in one of his pocket, not the one it had come from though, Harry noticed. He tried a new subject, something he thought was harmless. "So what's your name," he asked loudly, over the man's sniffles, which were proportionate to his size. "Oh blimey Harry, last time I saw you, you was no bigger than my thumb." He held up an enormous thumb and Harry could easily believe he had once been that size. He was surprised that the man knew him though, Harry was sure he would have remembered seeing this man before. "Ma names 'Agrid," he said. "Agrid?" repeated Harry questioningly. "Hagrid," he said again, this time with an _H_ sound in front of it. "Hagrid," said Harry wonderingly. "Hagrid, are we going to Diagon Alley, now?"

To which Hagrid responded, "Yep, we are. But first we gotta make a stop by your vault."

This confused Harry. "I haven't got a vault. Does this mean I can't buy my school stuff?"

Hagrid looked down at him questioningly/ "What d'you mean you don't have a vault? O'course you got a vault. Blimey Harry, didja think your parents left ya nothing. Pfft! Lily and James Potter were anything but poor, yer mother was one of the most successful potioneer the wizarding world had had the fortune to know. Could have been an alchemist, her." He spoke of Harry's parents with respect and, Harry thought, affection. What Harry didn't understand, though, was, "What do you mean wizards?" Hagrid looked down at him in awe, "What d'you mean what do I mean? Your mother was a brilliant witch and your father was an amazin' wizard. It's a pity that-" His eyes unglazed and snapped into focus on Harry. "Ah, 'spect you don't want to talk about that. Well, I guess it's time ter go, aint it?" He shifted his weight to his other foot and Harry heard joints popping and bones creaking. C'mon Harry, lets—Oh, almost forgot. I brought yer somethin'." He reached into another of his innumerable pockets and pulled out a small squished looking package, covered in brown packing paper. He handed it to Harry, and Harry was struck by the contrast between their two hands. His was small, pink and white, smooth and soft; Hagrids was huge, brown, calloused, and rough. He unwrapped the package and found a small white and blue cake inside. Handwritten, with icing, across the top were the words, "Happy Birthday Harry!" in barely legible letters. It hit Harry in his heart, though. The Dursley's had never given him a birthday, and Harry had only had them for six weeks. Being ten he had never been abusive of them like they would have been to him, he was too innocent for that. For all the power Harry had been gifted, he was just like any other abused, and unloved child. His heart was a gaping hole waiting to be filled, and indeed many hoped Hogwarts would do that for him. He didn't know that though, he was just a little boy going into a new kind of big bad world.

Hagrid was looking at Harry with a kind of hopeful expectation, as though he would be so grateful if Harry accepted his gift. "Thank you," he said with feeling. Harry had just made his first friend of the wizarding world. Dudley, probably because he was being ignored in his mumbling, had begun screaming and it seemed to be annoying Hagrid more than anyone else. He reached back behind himself and his hand came back out with a large, hideous pink umbrella. It looked to be several decades old as the water resistant cloth was torn, and the handle was moldering away. When Hagrid brandished in the air at Dudley, Harry was surprised it didn't snap in half. He was even more surprised when Dudley jumped up and screamed, clutching his fat bottom. It was so fat, though, that his hands couldn't quite reach the point they were trying to protect. Harry could easily see a large, curly pink tail sticking out of the back of Dudley's trousers. Though there was no way he could have seen it Dudley appeared to have known what had happened.

"Right then," Hagrid said sounding satisfied, "Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I guess there weren't much left to do but the tail. Harry," he said turning to face him, "I'd 'preciate it if you dint mention this to anyone at school. Not really surposed to be usin' magic," he added pink faced.

"Sure," said Harry breathlessly, still looking at Dudley spinning in circles trying to protect his bottom from further attack.

"Well lets go then," Hagrid said, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders and leading him out. "there's a whole world out there waitin' ter meetcha."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Hagrid took him to London. And he took him, on the bus. "Hagrid," he asked, "why are we taking the bus? Can't you fly or transport us in a puff of smoke or something?" Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Erm, I could, but… I'm surposed to be travelin' inconspicuous like, ya see?" Harry said yes, although he did not see what was so inconspicuous about a seven foot tall man in a moth eaten fur coat and big bushy hair so scrubby, you had the impression of looking up into the face of a grizzled old black bear. He pulled out the cake, that Hagrid had given him and began to tear chunks off. He bit into a piece and felt like his tooth had cracked, still Hargid was looking at him again so he smiled and hoped his tooth wasn't bleeding.

When they reached London, Hargid squeezed out the door, with Harry close behind. He followed him, with some difficulty, to the entrance of a rusty old pub. _Thank goodness he's so big or I would have lost him._ The sign on the pub was so old and dirty that he couldn't read the name. It was _the Leaky_ something.

As they walked in the entire bar got quiet. And they were all staring at him. "Hargid," he whispered, trying to hide behind them, "Why are they all looking at me like that?"

"It's nothin' 'Arry," he said unconvincingly.

A small man in a bright orange top hat walked over to Harry; and shook his hand. "Harry Potter!" he cried delightedly, "What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, sir." Harry was a bit taken aback at being called _sir_, but it seemed that the man in the orange hat, _Dedaulus Diggle, or something=g like that,_ had broken the ice for suddenly the entire bar had come up to shake his hand.

"So nice to meet you." "Wonderful to make you acquaintance sir." and strangely, a few, "I'm so sorry for your loss," were thrown in. What loss they were talking about, though, he didn't know.

As he was thinking this, Hagrid had brought someone else up to see him. It was a small, pale man with quivering hands and clammy skin. He was garbed in simple black robes and had a strange purple turban around his head. Harry didn't like him. He tried to send his mind out to him he got stung. _This man's mind is dark and twisted. He is thinking way too much for any one person._ Parts of the man's mind were dark and seething, others were normal and nervous. _He's hurting my head_, Harry groaned out loud, and detached his mental hooks.

"—teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts and he—" Hagrid broke off. "Professor Quirrel, were gonna' go now. It was nice seein' ya." He dragged Harry by the hand through a small door near the back of the pub. It was nice and quiet, though small. "Harry, Harry are you alright?"

"Yeah Hagrid, I'm fine. Where are we?"

"This, Harry, this is the entrance to Diagon Alley." Harry peered around Hargid to see what was simply a brick wall. He was silent. He watched as Hagrid pulled his pink umbrella back out and started tapping random bricks with it. At least, they looked random, Harry could hear Hagrid mumbling under his breath, "third to the left, four down," and then he hit the last brick three times and the bricks began to split.

They looked as though they were melting as the folded in on themselves one by one so that under a minute later, Harry was looking down a bustling street full of people in various colored robes. There were street vendors calling out their wares, _what's someone supposed to do with dragon toenail clippings,_ wondered Harry, but even as he watched, a woman in green robes ran up and bought a bottle. Some of the vendors simply had large pots sitting beside them and were shouting things like, _good as Amortentia!,_ and, _It'll wake him right _up_!,_ and, _Polyjuice Potion! Look like anyone else for an hour a bottle, a bottle for thirty galleons!_ When harry walked by that one, he looked into the cauldron with interest, inside was a bubbling grey sludge that looked very much like the gruel that Petunia used to feed him. Hagrid saw him looking and said, "Eh, Harry, you won't be wantin' any of that, and anyways, ya haven't got yer money yet." And he pulled Harry away.

Finally he stopped, and Harry collided with his back; he didn't notice. "And this Harry," he gestured grandly, knocking the hat off of an old man, "is Gringott's. The wizard bank. Harry looked up at the foreboding old building. It was made of old grey stone, but was clearly still strong, it looked like some forbidden old castle filled with dear and darkness. Harry very much did not want to go in there. He said to Hagrid, "Hagrid, do you think you could just g—" But Hagrid did not hear him and dragged him in.

Inside of the building was just like the out, grey, cold, and dark. And full. It was filled with men and women of all races and all wearing robes. And also, beneath all the tall human people were what looked like the shriveled, corpses of human children with overgrown ears and really large feet. "Them's goblin's 'Arry." Whispered Hagrid, although Harry was sure that every one of the long eared goblins could hear him. "Don't never get on the wrong side of one of them, and don't _ever_ try to steal from them. Goblins know everything, see everything, and control everything."

"We do not control _everything,_" Said a voice behind them, making them both jump. "We only control what wizards _allow _us to control, which sadly, is not much." It spat the word wizards. Standing behind them was a goblin. Up close Harry could see they were even more disgusting than they appeared. Their pale flesh seemed to _drip_ down their bodies, like candle wax.

"My name is Griphook," Griphook said, "and how might you be in need of service today?" Harry noticed that instead of asking _how may I be of service?_ he had asked what kind of service they needed. _Wow, _thought Harry, _they must really hate wizard's_. Harry didn't want to try to touch this creatures mind, it seemed to _foreign_, to repulsive for him to try to connect with. _I wonder if all of the magical world is gonna have this affect on me._ He hoped not, he relied on the mental stability of those around him to keep himself stable.

While he had been thinking this Hagrid had been conversing with Griphook at great length. Finally, Hagrid produced a key, and the goblin made a dissatisfied sound and led them to the end of the great room. There was a set of railroad tracks in the grounds and with a smart _snap!_ a small row of three carts appeared. He gestured for them to get in and Harry sat in the second cart and Hagrid in the third. The goblin in the first cart, snapped his fingers again and they were off.

Hagrid, behind him, was making a lot of awful retching noises. Harry was glad that he hadn't sat in the third cart behind Hagrid, because he was sure to have been hit with several… splashes. The cart stopped abruptly and Harry ducked as vomit sailed over his head. The goblin had already hopped out of the cart and was looking at Hagrid with disgust.

He led Harry to a vault right off the tracks. "Key, please," he said briskly, looking at Harry. Harry looked at Hagrid, who handed the key to Griphook. He put the key into the smallest hole on the door, that harry would not have ever noticed, and gave it a twist. Then he placed his hand as far up on the door as he could and slid it down. Where he slid his hand, a crack appeared and that crack widened to reveal a large room.

_Gold_, though Harry wondrously. And it was; the vault was filled with mounds and mounds of old with smaller hills of silver and bronze thrown in. Hagrif tried to explain to him the currency but Harry didn't hear much, "—and seventeen knuts to a sickle, alright Harry?" Harry nodded, not taking in a word. He pulled out the leather bag Hagrid had given him and began to fill it with gold; as it neared its maximum capacity Hagrid said, worriedly, "Uh, Harry, ya might want some knuts and sickles too. For the smaller stuff like." Harry threw a couple silver ones and a few bronze ones on top and tried to shut the bag. When he got it most of the way closed he handed it back to Hagrid who put in a pocket.

As they got back in the carts Hagrid said, "Oi Griphook, don't forget about the you-know-what in vault seven thirteen." The goblin said nothing and they simply sped forward. They stopped in front of another vault, clearly marked with the numbers seven, one, and three. Harry made to get out of the cart but Hagrid motioned that he ought stay put. He sat back down with a _thud_.

When Hagrid and the Goblin came out their hands both appeared empty, but Harry was sure he saw Hagrid slip a small brown package into one of his pockets. _A pocket for every occasion_, thought Harry sarcastically.

They rode the cart back out, and a few times straight up, much to Hagrid's dismay, and left the building to find the rest of his school things. As they left the dismal grey building Harry forgot all about the grubby little grey package from vault three seventeen.

* * *

As Harry walked out of Flourish and Blot's laden with school books, he saw a beaming Hagrid standing in front of him. "What?" asked Harry, stupidly. "Nothin' Harry, I just had an idea, thas all." He grinned all the way to the next shop. It was a small little room, rather unnoticeable really, and was in the middle of a long line of shops more colorful and brightly lit. Still, it had an aura of mystery, and intrigue; in short, it was cool.

As Harry walked in Hagrid walked out, after making an encouraging thumbs up sign at Harry. He turned around and saw a grey haired old man behind him. He gestured kindly for Harry to come forward, but didn't quite meet his eyes. His silvery eyes were distant and though staring straight at Harry, did not appear to see him.

"Hello Mr. Potter," he said in a way Harry privately thought was creepy. "You look so much like your father did, when he first came in here." And then, abruptly, "I remember every wand I have ever sold Mr. Potter, _every_ wand."

And then randomly seemed to jump back on target, "Now, let's be finding you a wand, shall we?" he walked over to one of the shelves that lined all the walls behind the counter, he randomly, it appeared, pulled a one of the thousand identical boxes out from about waist height. "Try this one, then," he said delicately handing the thin stick to Harry. "Eleven point five inches, oak, dragon heart string core," he announced, then, to Harry, "Well go on. Give it a wave."

Harry waved the wand and flames shot out the front, setting Mr. Ollivander's shirt on fire. After putting himself out he handed Harry another wand and said, this time somewhat dryly, "Ten point five inches, rosewood and pine, springy, Unicorn hair core." This time Harry knew what was expected of him and gave the wand a little wave. This time the windows shattered, though no one outside seemed to notice.

This time when he handed Harry the wand, it felt special, when he gave it a wave it lit up and Harry felt as though he were floating on air. "Holly, phoenix feather core, supple." Olivander whispered this time. "I remember every wand I ever sold, Mr. Potter," he said again, "and it just so happens that the phoenix who gave a feather to this wand also gave another. And it is curious that you should choose this wand when its brother gave you that scar." He said dramatically. Harry like Mr. Olivander but also thought he was creepy and quickly paid and left.

When he stood outside, Hagrid was there and on his arm was a snowy white owl. "Happy Birthday Harry!"

**Sorry Guys, this was kind of a transition chapter so no mass mind control. Sorry :(**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay guys, I went on vacation and then it was my birthday and now I have lots of stories to catch up on. I promise, I'm, working really hard though. My bf thinks I'm obsessed, what about you guys? Enjoy.**

Chapter Four:

Platform nine and three quarters was crowded. Harry was overwhelmed by the number of people around him. His mental facilities were on overload as his mind brushed those around him. He pushed his cart forward as quickly as he could, eager to get out of the crowded atrium. Hedwig hooted in protest as the cart swung sharply around a pillar towards the train. He pushed the cart up next to the loading dock and forcefully threw his trunks in._ I hope nothing is broken,_ he thought as he grabbed Hedwig and ran up the nearest entrance into the train. He ran all the way to the back of the train until he found an empty compartment. He slammed the glass doors closed behind him and sat down upon the worn red velvet seats. He sagged against the window and tried to catch his breath. He was sweating through his clothes, and his mind was barely calming down from all the other consciousnesses around him. At least the small closed in compartment afforded the sense of aloneness that he so desperately needed. When at last he felt ok again he sat back up and looked around him. It was a simple little room with plush red seats on either wall and a large window against the side. Through the glass doors he could see other people, his age and over, walking by, joining their friends in their compartments. _Lucky them_, thought Harry, bitterly. Even as he thought that, the view from the glass door was taken up by a person. A really tall kid with bright orange hair, freckles splayed all across his nose, and a maroon sweater embroidered with the letter _R_ in bright yellow across his chest. He knocked on the glass and shouted through it, "Oi, can I sit in there?" _One person couldn't be too bad, right?_ He nodded, and the other boy pulled the doors apart, letting in a torrent of sounds and thoughts to crash down on Harry like a wave. It was gone just as quickly when he shut the doors behind him. "Thanks," he said, as he sat down on the seat opposite Harry. "Blimey, its crowded out there. Was afraid I wouldn't be able to get a compartment," he chuckled, "Or worse, have to sit with my brothers, that would be so _embarrassing_." _he makes it sound like the end of the world,_ thought Harry,_ I wish I had brothers._ Harry reached out and tentatively felt the boys mind, it was a jumbled mess, like most people's were, but he was able to glean that he had a lot of brothers and that they also picked on him a lot.

Harry looked out the window at the same time as the big train whistle began to exactly that. He watched as the crowds of loving families waved goodbye to their sons or daughters. They slowly began to move backwards, picking up speed as the train pulled out. Soon he was looking at a beautiful green landscape that didn't match the London they had just come from at all. He turned around to look at the boy who was still sitting across from him. His mouth was moving and his face was animated. Harry tuned back in, "-ter is supposed to be on the train! Can you believe it? I had no idea that he was supposed to be in our year or even going to Hogwarts! You are first year, right?"

Harry nodded, wondering how one person could talk so fast, "I thought so. My favorite Quidditch team is the Ch-" Harry cut him off, "So what's your name?" he asked in what he hoped was a friendly manner.

"What? Oh, yeah, I suppose we haven't been properly introduced," he held out a hand, "I'm Ron Weasely."

Harry took it and said "Harry Potter." Ron's hand went limp in his hand. "Blimey," he looked stunned, "Are you really? You're not just having one over on me?"

Harry dropped Ron's lifeless hand and brought his own up to his forehead. He lifted the hair above his forehead, revealing the scar that Hagrid had told him was his mark, his reminder of what had killed his parents, the scar that made him famous.

"Oh wow. You are him, I mean you. Why didn't you say anything when I was talking 'bout you before?" he suddenly looked embarrassed, like a young boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Now Harry felt sheepish, "I wasn't really listening," he said, while tweaking Ron's mind a bit so that he wouldn't care. Ron looked relieved and pulled a small brown rat out of his pocket.

Harry could instantly tell there was something not right about this rat, but he couldn't tell what. Its mind was shielded, which in itself was odd. He didn't press the matter though. Ron pulled out his wand and said eagerly, "Wanna see this spell my brothers told me? I dunno if it'll work, though."

He placed the rat gently on his lap and recited, while tapping the rat, "Butter mellow, daisies, essence of pillow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" and brandished his wand and then jabbed the rat with it. The rat remained entirely stoic. Ron looked disappointed, "I bet they knew it wouldn't work," he grumbled under his breath, in reference, Harry felt sure to the brothers he continually mentioned.

"You've got an owl, that's so much better than a stupid rat," he said enviously.

Just then a girl walked in. she had a wild bush of curly brown hair, gleaming chocolate eyes, and was already wearing the communal school robes just like the ones Harry had purchased with, Hagrid in Diagon Alley.

She walked in and announced, "A boy named Neville lost his toad. Have I either of you seen one?" then, before they had a chance to shake their heads, she saw Ron's wand and said, "Oh , are you doing magic then? Let see it."

Ron looked rather sheepish, "Erm, ok."

"But you've just done—" Harry began, but Ron shot him a look. Harry felt around his mind and smiled, he wanted to impress her so he was going to do a spell he knew worked. "Incantato Filerium!" he exclaimed. His eyebrows became bright green, and from what Harry could glean that was _not_ what was supposed to happen. He had to keep from chuckling. Ron looked completely confused and said, abashedly, "It was supposed to turn my rat green. I don't know what happened."

The girl was also giggling, "Well, I do," she said, "She gently pushed his chin so that he was looking at his reflection in the glass compartment doors. "Oh no," he cried.

The girl, still giggling, leaned forward and said, "Don't worry, I can fix it." She pulled out her wand and simply said, "Finito," and gave him a sharp tap on the head with the point of her wand. As ron cringed, his eyebrows returned to their original color. Ron, checking himself in the mirror, said, "Thanks," and turned to smile at her. She smiled back and as she turned to leave the compartment said, "No problem, and my names Hermione. Hermione Granger."

Harry grinned and thought, _those two definitely like each other. I bet he'd be grateful If I helped them get together._ And Harry started making plans.

**Some of you might wonder why Harry doesn't take over every mind he comes in contact with. There are two reasons for this. One is because **_**he isn't evil!**_** And two is because it takes a strong burst of emotion to trigger his ability to control people. Like the hate he felt for Vernon and Petunia and Dudley when Vernon tried to lock him out. He may or may not find out about this later. I haven't decided yet.**


End file.
